Mariko flinched, but held her chin high. She wet her lips. Swallowed. “Yes, my lord.”
“Very well,” Roku said. “Put her in chains and have her placed beneath the castle to await my judgment.” He turned toward Raiden. “That is—of course—if my brother has no objections.”
Raiden sat utterly still. Still enough that he could count the beats of his heart.
He said nothing.
Just like with Lord Hirata, a look of profound sadness passed over Mariko’s face.
The entire court watched as imperial soldiers shackled Hattori Mariko and led her from the audience room. When Lord Hirata took a step in her direction as though to stop them, she held up a hand, silencing his efforts.
The stately elder man bowed to her. The ladies of the court watched, their eyes wide, their hair ornaments trembling. Around the room, several advisors to the emperor stole glances at each other, weariness weighing their every motion.
Once Mariko was gone, Roku moved from his throne. Emerged from beneath the silken canopy. He smiled broadly as he gazed about the room, meeting the faces of his most trusted advisors. Those who had served his father—served his family—for generations.
His attention settled on Lord Hirata, who still waited in the same place before the throne, his features vexed. A deep sorrow hovering about the space.
Roku moved toward him. Lord Hirata bowed.
The moment the elderly man stood, Roku slid a small blade across the elderly man’s throat.
Lord Hirata’s hands covered the wound, blood spurting from between his fingers, a shocked expression on his face. Roku pried his advisor’s hands away so that the blood cascaded down the front of Lord Hirata’s elegant robe, staining it darkest crimson. When the man fell to his knees, Roku lifted his bloodied hands to his face. Studied the bright color glistening between his fingertips.
A muted scream arose from the end of the audience room. Two ladies of the court fainted. The rest of the advisors took to their feet, their features aghast.
Without a word, Roku returned to his throne.
“You are dismissed,” he pronounced.
All the while, Raiden sat rigidly in place, the last of his hope dwindling to nothingness.
My Sovereign
Raiden could not sleep. No matter where he looked, he saw the image of Lord Hirata’s face, mired in sadness. Felt the pain of his failures. And he could not avoid the stark truth:
Mariko was not where she should be.
He glared at the ceiling. It was not his fault. He had not been the one to take a stand against his brother in such a public fashion. Raiden had tried to warn her. He was not culpable for Mariko’s stubbornness. The girl was as headstrong as an ox.
But that feeling of wrongness gnawed at Raiden until he could bear it no longer.
The death of Lord Hirata was the final blow to Roku’s fragile hold on reality. In the aftermath, the emperor fled the throne room. He’d screamed to all those present, saying if a single one of them stepped forward—thought to challenge him in any way—he would kill each and every one of them. Stain the floors red with their blood.
Now he was nowhere to be found.
Once the moon had reached its apex, Raiden left his chamber to resume the search for his brother. They needed to mend what Roku had broken today, or their family risked losing the support of the nobility. He made his way through the darkness, two of the most trusted members of the yabusame at his back. When he did not find Roku anywhere in the emperor’s private chambers, he took to searching the Lotus Pavilion, the place where Roku’s mother perished.
He found an oil lantern in the center of the dowager empress’s floor, its contents still warm.
But no sign of his brother.
A thought entered Raiden’s mind. He left the Lotus Pavilion and crossed the nightingale floors toward the entrance of the castle’s underbelly. At the top of the stairs, he stopped. Then turned toward the two soldiers in his shadow.
“Stand guard by the dowager empress’s chambers,” Raiden said under his breath. “If the emperor arrives, watch over him, but do nothing that might upset him. Say nothing. The first chance you get, send word to me.”
The two members of the yabusame bowed in tandem. One of them looked Raiden squarely in the eye. “My lord?”
Raiden waited.
The soldier continued. “Forgive me for offering my opinion without being asked, but I worry for your safety.”
“Do not worry for my safety,” Raiden said. “Worry for the safety of your sovereign.”
The two soldiers exchanged a look. One whose meaning could hardly be mistaken.
“Do as you are commanded,” Raiden said in a harsh tone.
They hesitated for an instant before they bowed again, taking their leave.
Once they were out of sight, Raiden descended into the bowels of Heian Castle. The stench there had taken on a life of its own. He tried not to dwell on all the images it conjured as he proceeded toward the cells. Toward a place that shaped the worst of his recent nightmares.
His wife calmly sat behind the iron bars, her finery soiled beyond repair. They had not chained her as they had Takeda Ranmaru. Someone had thought to provide her with an evening meal, though Raiden was certain his brother would not be pleased to learn of it. At Mariko’s feet sat an untouched bowl of rice and a chipped vessel of water.
Distress tore through Raiden’s body like a caged beast fighting to be set free. He could unlock the cell if he wished. He and Roka possessed the only two keys. But that action would be in direct defiance of the emperor. It was enough that Raiden had lied so many times to protect his new wife. Enough that he’d tried to shield her in secret, just as he had with the young courtiers the night of the dowager empress’s death. Just as he had with Lord Shimazu earlier today. It was not his fault that Mariko languished in filth, likely awaiting her own death. Her fate was sealed the moment she challenged Roku.
As Raiden took in the sight of her predicament, he attempted to appear dispassionate. In truth, his emotions were far from unaffected. His heart thundered in his chest, and the blood coursed through his veins as though a fire raged beneath his skin.
“My lord,” Mariko said in a cool tone.
“Has my brother been here?” Raiden asked. “Has he come to … see you?”
Mariko smiled. “No. The emperor has not come to taunt me. Yet.”
Raiden almost admonished Mariko for her disrespect. But some part of him rebelled at the notion. Rebelled at its truth. “You are certain?”
“If Roku intended to torment me tonight, I believe he would have made his presence known, my lord. He isn’t the type to work in half measures.”
She wasn’t wrong. Roku did enjoy watching his quarry squirm beneath his stare.
Raiden took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. The stench of burnt flesh was almost unbearable. “Is there something else you wish to eat?” He glanced at the porcelain bowl of untouched food. “Or perhaps to drink?”
“You’re trying to help me?” Mariko curved an eyebrow his way. “Now, of all times?”
Raiden frowned. He did not appreciate her censure. “Of course I am.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but I think you’re trying to help yourself.”
The heat running through Raiden’s veins caused his face to flush.
“I don’t mind if you’re trying to help yourself, Raiden. As long as you also help others,” Mariko said softly. “It means some part of you feels guilty. Some part of you knows how wrong this is.”
Raiden studied her a moment. Found himself admiring her honesty. “Perhaps I am trying help myself,” he admitted.
“Then it’s possible I wasn’t wrong about you. It’s possible the soldiers who led me to this cell were right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They told me to appeal to you for mercy. That you quietly spared those who’d fallen into the path of your brother’s rage in recent days. And maybe you would offer me the same consideration.”
“I am not merciful, Lady Mariko.”
“Not too long ago I would have agreed with you.” Mariko paused. “But now I am not so certain.”
Raiden bit down on nothing. She was inexorable, that was for certain. “Why did you offer yourself in exchange for a man so near to death?”